Black Balloon
by Scarlet Twilight
Summary: [ AU ] Heero is an assasin and his weapon of choice? Himself. - He glanced up at her and saw the lust that ran unbridled through her eyes. - (1.25.05) Chapter III is now up.
1. Chapter I Hole in the Head

**DISCLAIMER**: Okay…PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!… don't read this unless you can handle some lemony [ i.e sexual ] content. I don't want to be sued for traumatizing the innocent. Also, there's another tiny detail. I don't own any of these characters. Damn.

Black Balloon Chapter I: Hole in the Head 

She clung onto him with all her strength, their slick bodies molding against one another. She nipped at his neck, clawing at his muscular back and letting out small gasps of pleasure. He pumped in and out of her, their breaths hot and laced with lust. Her blonde hair spilled over the pillow like a golden cascade. She cried out his name over and over; he said nothing nor showed any emotion. Almost instantly, she came like a flood, unyielding and intense. He pulled out of her satiated body and laid down.

She never noticed that he didn't come with her.

"Heero…" she gasped, "where did you learn how to do that?" She curled up against his sweaty body and sighed dreamily. Her eyes were glossy, as shiny as glass and filled with the heavens.

He smirked and sat up, resting his arms on his naked thighs. "Hn," he grunted. Heero got up listlessly and walked over to the chair where his clothes hung in a neat pile. Slipping on his boxers and jeans, he looked over to her with his Prussian blue eyes.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked him, propping herself upon her elbow, a seductive grin on her face. She wasn't done yet – she wanted more.

He finished buttoning up his shirt and stared back for a moment, the silence growing thick. He rolled up his sleeves and ran his hand through his hair a couple of times, the strands falling back into their usual messy position. He breathed in and then out.

 "My job." He outstretched his arm and pulled the trigger.

Heero walked through the streets with his hands jammed into his pockets. It was cold today, even for a cloudy day in November. He climbed onto his Yamaha parked in the alleyway, and put on his helmet. The motorcycle cut through the air like a bird, quick and swift. The cold air bit at his nose, his ears, and turned his skin bright pink and covered in small goosebumps.  Heero rode through the back streets that wrapped around the city like a labyrinth and pulled up against an old building hidden by the back streets. He walked up the few flights of stairs and went into the room upstairs, his home.

"Hey, Heero," a voice called from the bathroom.

Heero grunted and kicked his shoes off and sat down on the couch.

"How'd it go?"

"Like always. Simple," he responded. "Women are all the same. Lustful and foolish."

"Yea, but this one was a cute one. What was her name again? Re…re…" he mumbled.

"Reena," Heero ended. "Duo, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worse than those women. You're readier to take off your pants than they are."

Duo chuckled and peered his head out of the bathroom. "Nah… what can I say? I'm a growing boy. Puberty and the hormones are working. But honestly, wouldn't you have liked to fuck her without all the strings attached?"

Heero eyed him and raised an eyebrow. "No. Sex is sex."

Duo stuck his head outside the bathroom again. "You aren't gay, are you?" Heero shot a dirty look at his roommate and shook his head. Duo sighed in relief. "Well, I think it would be nice to have some good ole fashioned sex without having to blow the girl's brains out."

"You and your hormones, Maxwell."

"You say that as if it's a _bad_ thing." Duo pulled on his leather jacket and gave his hair one last check in the mirror. "Well, time for me to go screw another chick. It's amazing how much money husbands are willing to pay just to kill their spouse."

"Hn…" he nodded.

Duo left Heero alone in the modestly furnished apartment; white walls, a couch, a small television, and other basic amenities. He stumbled into the bathroom and stripped down until he had nothing on but a small scar on his left rib. He took a shower and rid himself of Reena; he didn't like her stench, the acrid smell, the bitter flavor. The water burned his skin and he rubbed it vigorously with the bar of soap. Stepping out of the shower, he wiped away the fog from the window. He stared at the reflection of himself, not sure what to think of himself.

His life. Did it really have to be like this?

He sighed and dressed in his tee shirt and drawstring pants. Logging onto his computer, he dried his chocolate locks. The screen flipped on, a voice welcomed him.

_Welcome. You've got Vid-Mail._

He opened his inbox and checked the mail. It was from an anonymous person. He contemplated it for a minute before double clicking. A small screen popped up from the corner and began to load. Heero turned up the volume and watched the screen.

"Heero Yuy, I presume," a voice said slowly and lowly. And feminine. "If you are reading this, I take it you are curious to whom would be sending you this…and why that person is a woman. If you would like to accept, call the number below, extension 7352-BNS. If you would like to deny, please delete this and never think of it again."

He closed the window and picked up his cell. It wouldn't hurt to have a few extra thousand in the pocket. Heero dialed in the numbers and listened to the ring tones.

"Heero Yuy."

"Mr. Yuy, I take it you received my Vid-Mail and you have chosen to accept. Excellent." The voice purred like a cat yet hissed like a snake. "I've heard a good deal about you. You seem to have quite the reputation on the streets, a very good one at that."

"Enough of the flattery. What would you like me to do?" he asked blatantly. Time was money, as they said.

She snickered quietly. "A man who gets to the point. I like that. Well then, Mr. Yuy, I have a proposition for you," she said slowly. "I will give you half a million dollars to kill my sister, the heir to Father's estate and bonds."

Heero smirked. "I'd think she was cheating with your boyfriend."

The woman laughed. "Heavens, no. You think I would murder someone over such a trivial matter? I'm out for the millions my father has."

"All right, then," Heero agreed. A woman with brains, he thought, what a unique species. "I accept."

"Great. Head to 173th Main Street, and into _Café de la café _tomorrow morning_._ There, you'll see a girl – long blonde hair and she's a waitress there.  Be there around 5 A.M and don't be late. Do whatever you need to get the job done. Understand?"

"Got it. And the name?"

"Darlian. Relena Darlian."

Heero shut off the monitor and smirked. "Piece of cake."

Note: Wow – it has been forever since I've updated xD Well I am determined to try and finish this story before the summer ends! So please enjoy these sporadically posted chapters. Comments and critique are greatly appreciated =D


	2. Chapter II Sweet Like Honey

**Black Balloon**

**Chapter II: Sweet like Honey**

Heero was anything but a morning person; a lover, an assassin, a neurosurgeon for all he cared, just not a morning person. His alarm went off loud and shrill and he groggily smacked his snooze button, as if it were a reflex. The red numbers glared a bloody red as silence ensued once more. He didn't want to be woken up from his land of dreams by some damned ringing sound.

Wait. He had a job, a job with a sizeable amount of money to be earned.

He moaned and stretched himself out, his bones cracking and muscles loosening up. The sun was still asleep, hidden beyond the horizon. That lazy ass, he thought. If it wasn't up, then nobody should be up. The air was icy against his skin as he reluctantly threw the thick covers off and felt his way into the kitchen. The floor was cold too, his bare feet tingling against the wooden panels. He didn't like the cold. His hand roamed along the wall and felt the switch and he flicked on the lights.

"Good morning."

Heero jumped slightly at the voice. The lack of sleep was causing delusional voices in his head… that sounded much like Duo's.

The braided man sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of brown muck. Heero looked at the mug, and edged back, his face crinkled and disgusted. The odor was horrible and smelled as if it were a pile of dung.

"What is that crap?" Heero asked him, holding his breath.

"It's not just any crap. It's for my hangover…" he moaned, rubbing his temples.

"Did you kill her?" he asked, a serious mask over his face. "Duo, if you didn't…"

"Of course…" Duo responded coolly, only to add, "After have one hell of a good fuck." He smirked at his roommate. "Man, she was so warm and tight…"

"Spare me the details," Heero shot at him.

"Well, fine." Duo pouted. "This crap doesn't seem to help with the hangover so I think I'll just go to bed…G'night." With that, Duo disappeared into his room and quietly shut the door behind him. Heero poured the concoction out into the sink and cracked open the window to let the stench diffuse. He glanced at the clock on the microwave and quickly returned to his room. Heero changed into a worn pair of jeans and a black turtleneck a bit too big for him. All that dawdling in bed took time away and he had no time for breakfast.

But coffee. Yes, that was his god. Black, with nothing but the soothing taste of the roasted beans.

He reached into the pantry and fumbled with the metal can. Almost happily and anxious, he opened the tin and awaited the strong, smooth aroma to fill his senses.

Nothing.

He looked down and saw a few grains of brown on the bottom. His brows furrowed as he tossed the can out and grumbled. Time was wasting and there'd be no coffee brewing this morning. Reluctantly, he wrapped a scarf around his neck and slipped on his coat and gloves and stepped outside.

Heero hopped onto his motorcycle and sped off towards the café. Heero would get his coffee there, or there would be hell to pay. Unforgiving, torturous hell. His addiction to the warm liquid caused him to speed down the streets at a rapid speed, and he didn't care if there were innocent bystanders. All he wanted was his coffee.

_Café de la café _was a quaint little coffee house that sat on the corner. It was old and rustic, capturing the essence of an old Italian villa, painted with mellow browns and gold. He slowed his engine down and parked to the side of the entrance on the streets. Businessmen and women emerged from the door of the shop, hurrying along with their java or cappuccinos. A bunch of overworked and psychotic people who were up at dawn. Pathetic, Heero thought. He tucked his helmet under his seat and fastened his bike to the metal bars. He walked into the café and almost immediately, rich smells of coffee beans and hot chocolate filled his senses. Almost intoxicated, he found himself lured into a booth by the window, staring out at sun, which had finally decided to wake up.

"Good morning," a girl smiled. "Would you like to order something?"

Heero looked up at her. "A cup of coffee. Black."

"Alright," she said while jotting it down in a little notepad. "I'll be right back with your order."

She walked off and Heero stared at the sloppy bow that kept the apron from shifting in the back. Her hair seemed soft and silky, tied up into a messy bun too. She came back soon with a mug of coffee, still hot and tempting. He paid and took a hearty gulp from the mug, savoring the deep and bittersweet taste. He looked around again. She wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Long blonde hair and a waitress," he thought to himself. "You think she could have been any vaguer?" He scanned the shop with his eagle eyes; three of the four staff members fit that description.

And at that moment, the heavens seemed to love him.

"Relena!" a girl from behind the counter called. "You're going to be late!"

The girl who had served him before ran from the corner table and up to the counter. "Thanks, Betsy," she said, quickly fumbling with the bow of the apron.

Heero almost choked on his coffee. How could he have been so blind?

She removed the rubber band off from her hair, golden locks spilling halfway down her back. "Just make sure you give them their cinnamon bun and hot chocolate, okay?" She pointed at an older couple in the corner. "I'm going now – bye!" With that, she picked up a couple of books from behind the counter and her wool peacoat, running out into the bustling early morning traffic.

Heero chugged the rest of his coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He ran outside after her only to be met with a flood of pedestrians. He couldn't let her escape from him a second time. He narrowed his eyes and caught a glint of her long hair billowing in the light wind. He stalked her as if she were his prey as she sped down the sidewalk, turning into the college campus nearby.

He couldn't just pop up from behind her, pull out a gun, and go boom. Heero's style had always been sly and seductive – his reputation was of that at least. His leather jacket clung to his slim and built body as he strode past the garbage cans and stray cats that watched him with big round eyes. Minutes later, he reached the campus across from where she had entered, watching the students walk in large groups. His cobalt blue eyes stared, almost enviously at them.

A normal life – something he had always wanted, but could never have.

He saw her again, quickly pacing towards her class, he assumed. Heero studied her gait; graceful but not fragile, her figure; slim but healthy, curves in the right places and a b-cup he guessed. He made small mental notes to himself of her fashion as well; simple, comfortable, casual.

A short boy just a bit taller than herself caught up with her. His face was bright and his hair was platinum blonde, his bangs swooshing back and forth. She grinned and they walked to class together, her pace slowing down and her posture loosening up. A friend… perhaps even more, Heero thought. That had to be fixed. The two entered the Liberal Arts building, and he entered casually soon after. He didn't want to catch the attention of anybody but that seemed harder than it was.

Three pairs of eyes fell upon him as he strolled down the halls, filled with a want… no, a need, for sex. Theirs heads turned to watch him, their makeup covered faces pleased with the sight of the mysterious male with a nice ass. He could imagine them licking their crimson lips, luring stupid men to bed with them with a wave of their three-inch nails.

"Idiots," he mumbled under his breath to himself. He ignored their lustful glances and kept himself focused on the task at hand – the blonde girl who had just turned into Government Politics. Heero slipped into an empty seat in the back and prepared himself for what would be an almost endless three hour lecture.

He yawned and cracked his knuckles as he stepped back outside into the midday sun. He took off his leather jacket and leaned against a brick pillar, waiting for Relena to emerge from the building.

"Hey, there," she greeted, leaning her anorexic frame against the other face of the pillar. "I haven't seen you around here before."  
  
Heero mentally slapped himself. "I just transferred," he lied.

"Mmm," she giggled. "Do you…" Heero wanted to flee. He wanted to shoot her in the head in broad daylight. He hated women. "Do you want to go to the stude…" Luckily, Relena had come out and was carrying a pile of books.

"Excuse me," Heero retorted coldly, catching up to Relena. Her hair smelled like sweet, sweet honey.

"Hi," he said coolly. "Let me help you with those." Smooth, Yuy. You're one smooth operator, he thought to himself.

She seemed pleasantly surprised and grinned, a light pink color washing over her cheeks. "Oh… thanks," she spoke, handing him over a few textbooks, "They're for the exam next week."

"Oh, right," Heero nodded along. "Do you think you can help me with section five?" he asked casually, tucking the books under his arm.

"Umm…" she hesitated, slowing her steps. "You don't have to know that for the exam."

"Right…" he spoke drawing out the words, "I just thought I could use a little refresher course." He smiled – no woman could resist his smile.

She thought about it for a minute, "…sure. Do you want to do it tomorrow night?"

He remembered he had another client to take care of only hours away; it could easily be done in a few hours. "Ah, great," he smiled again. This was turning out to be much easier than he had anticipated. They walked off campus and back into the quiet coffee shop, which had died down since the buzz in the morning. Relena set the books behind the counter and slipped on her apron.

"Thanks," she grinned. "Let me get you some coffee – it's the least I can do after you helped me." She poured him a large cup of coffee and carefully handed it to him.

He sipped out of the styrofoam covering. "I should be going now – I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh yes! I forgot to ask – what's your name?" Relena quipped, playing with the fabric of her sleeve.

"Heero," he replied simply.

"I'm Relena," she responded.

"I know," he smiled and walked out of the café back into the streets.

Comments and critique appreciated. More to come soon [hopefully!]


	3. Chapter III The Sandman

**Black Balloon**

**Chapter III – The Sandman**

Heero stepped into the bare apartment to find Duo sprawled out on the couch, eyes glued onto the flashing television screen. His mouth hung wide open and he spooned himself another bite of Death by Fudge ice cream into his mouth.

"Oi," Duo spoke, turning his head around during the commercials, "They always cut off the good parts right at the commercial. Stupid censorship."

"Duo, how can you eat that?" he asked his roommate. He neatly hung up his leather jacket and tucked away his shoes in the closet.

"Eat what?" the braided man asked, wolfing down another large bite.

"Ice cream, in thirty degree weather…"

"Any day is good for ice cream," he grinned. His mouth was stained with the dark goodness.

Heero arched an eyebrow and sat down on the other couch, stretching himself out like a cat in the sun.

"So, you have another job today?" Duo asked.

"Mmhmm," Heero mumbled. "Another man after insurance, what a surprise."

"Bored, eh? Maybe she's into bondage," Duo joked. "I know how you love the kinky stuff."

Heero shot him a glare. "How reassuring," he sighed. Heero had an hour before he had to complete his mission so what better to do than work out? He had to keep his body in perfect shape – that's how the ladies liked it; hard, toned, sturdy. How simple it was to please them. He lazily rolled off the couch and walked into his room, where he changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He had ten sets of pushups, seven of curl-ups, and a few laps around the block if there was time. Heero sprawled himself out on the wooden floor and started his first set of pushups.

"One…two…three…" he grunted.

"Hey Heero," Duo yelled from the couch. "Do you mind if I finish off this ice cream? It's so damn tasty."

"Go right ahead, Duo. Gain twenty pounds for all I care," he muttered while pushing himself up.

"Sweet," he squealed. The sound of guns and explosions rang throughout the apartment, followed by a long chain of toned down swearing soon followed by what seemed to be Russian.

Heero ignored the television, focused on using his one-hour to tone himself up. It was the winter after all – no time to become sluggish. He could already feel the muscles in his arms tightening. The burn was want he wanted. The burn was good.

He stopped at a quarter to eight, leaving himself half an hour to shower and get to the restaurant. The muscles in his arms, legs and back were tense and throbbing after his rigorous excerices. He would care if he could feel the muscles. Heero hopped in the shower, scrubbed quickly and vigorously. He wore a pair of black slacks and a blue button up shirt, rolling up the sleeves and neatly folding the collar. A dab of Old Spice and he was good to go. Heero was a god of sex, a killer: it made no difference to him.

Duo was asleep and disheveled on the couch when Heero headed out. He grabbed a long trench coat from the closet and shook his head at the lump of testosterone. He left the apartment building and stepped into the alleyway where his motorcycle waited for him. A stray cat meowed around the corner and stared at the well groomed man with curious emerald eyes. She seemed to take a liking to him as well. Heero slipped the helmet over his head and sped off into the darkening skies. The streets were lit with tall lamps that were littered about, pigeons and crows resting atop. It was quiet tonight, with only the sound of his roaring motor ringing in his ears.

Heero pulled into the half empty parking lot a quarter before nine, exactly when he should have. He was always punctual – it was the least he could do for his victims. The restaurant seemed to be semi-formal, he gathered, switching the key off and letting the soft purr of the motor die out. He fixed his hair with a few runs of the hand in the rear view mirror and glanced at his watch. Looking through the large glass window in the front, he saw a woman sitting there in a skimpy red dress held up by two thin straps, with ebony hair tied up into a bun. She looked bored, and swooshed around the red wine in her glass. Heero smirked and let himself into the building. He casually sat down across from her and was met with a surprised stare. He smiled a charming smile and she smiled coyly.

Her clothes smelled of cigarette smoke and her breath smelled of alcohol. Soon after they acquainted themselves to one another, Heero felt a hand resting on his thigh. He glanced up at her and saw the lust that ran unbridled through her eyes. She licked her painted lips and ran her hand slowly up toward his groin.

He smirked – this was going to be easier than he thought.

"Oh my god," she cried, clenching onto the bed sheets and crying into the pillow. "Harder… HARDER!"

Heero complied and pushed harder, the beads of sweat rolling down his face, his neck, and his body. Damp clumps of hair stuck to his face as he could feel her tightening up around him. So close, he thought.

He tightened his grip around her waist, steadying her wildly rocking body. Their slick bodies rubbed against each other, the heat intensifying. She cried out at the top of her lungs and released, screaming his name. Heero withdrew from her, unsatisfied from the sex but completely satisfied for the earnings he would receive. It didn't matter if he didn't come; as long as his clients came, they wouldn't give a flying fuck about him. She flipped herself onto her back and breathed deeply, cheeks flushed and giggling madly.

"That… was… _incredible_," she slurred in between breaths. "Where did you learn that?"

Heero didn't answer, he merely smiled slyly. The clock on the nightstand red 3:36 P.M – the job had taken him longer than expected. First, they had talked for a few of hours at the restaurant before she invited him back with her to her penthouse suite on 3rd. Apparently, he had misread the signals: the woman, surprisingly, had wanted to get to know the complete stranger a little before banging him. There, he expected it to end quickly and easily. But instead, she started to weep, sobbing of how her life was nothing but luxury and wealth. She wanted love, purpose, everything she didn't have. For hours, she cried, her mascara running down the sides of her cheeks and lipstick all over her teeth. Growing impatient, he offered her another drink and little by little, she had become a drunken, raging nymphomaniac.

Damn her high tolerance and her incredible stamina. It was already late morning by the time she began to tire out from the sex.

Heero stood up and dressed himself, his muscles sorer than they had been after his workout. He adjusted the sleeves and collar meticulously.

"I want more," she said bluntly, lighting up a cigarette. "You're one helluva good fuck."

God, what a sick nympho, he thought to himself. 

He pulled the trench coat up around him and reached inside the front pocket. "Sorry," he said coldly, "I'm tired."

She pouted and whined. "But I'm not done yet!"

"Well, I am"

_Bang._

Heero left 3rd Avenue and found a telephone booth. He stepped inside the booth and deposited a couple of quarters into the slot. He punched in the numbers on a crumbled slip of paper and waited for a voice on the other end.

"Hello?" a voice asked cautiously.

"It's me," Heero spoke simply. "Where's the other half promised?"

"Good, good," the man laughed. "Don't worry. It's getting wired to you in as soon in a couple of hours."

"Good. It's been a pleasure doing business."

"The pleasure is mine," the man snorted before hanging up.

Heero hung up and walked back outside into the chilly afternoon and back towards the restaurant. His motorcycle waited for him patiently in front of the restaurant, unscathed and shining even on a cloudy day. Heero stepped on the gas and rode back to home, a little groggy from the lack of sleep the night before. The endless tracks of paved road almost lulled him to sleep, but thankfully, the cold wind struck in his face. He walked up the stairs and unlocked the door, stepping in and finding it dead quiet.

Odd, he speculated, even Duo would be awake at this time. Heero walked into the kitchen and saw a small note with messy handwriting and a smiley face on the tabletop.

_Went food shopping. _

- _Duo _

_Oh god – he's going to buy nothing but crap again_, Heero thought. He threw his keys down on the table and stumbled into his bedroom. The red numbers glared a little after 4:15. He stripped off everything except his undershirt and boxer and set his alarm clock for six and then threw himself under the heavy covers of his bed. He sighed contently, soon drifting off to sleep.

And to be woken up in what seemed to be minutes by the alarm clock.

He let out an exasperated groan and slammed down on the beeping contraption. His lids protested, acting as heavy weights obeying the law of gravity. Heero stumbled into the bathroom and found himself in the shower once again, this time on icy cold water. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he shivered and begun to wake up. His muscles twitched in protest and the aching pain numbed once again. He dried himself, the seemingly icy apartment much warmer than the arctic waters, and tied the damp towel around his waist. He stood in front of his closet, deciding upon an old pair of jeans and a shirt under an old grunge t-shirt he had found at a vintage store. He tightened the belt around his slim waist and rubbed his eyes. The shower was already beginning to wear off.

Duo had a job that night too, it seemed, as Heero found him in his room trying to find the perfect attire. He stood in front of his full length mirror and went through outfit after outfit. Heero grabbed his keys off the table and announced his departure to Duo, who was more intent on finding the color that would best bring out his eyes.

The library was substantial and old, made of multicolored bricks and rusting copper plates. He jogged up the steps, his keys jingling in his jacket and his cell phone tucked comfortably in the back of his tight jeans. A shot of musty air greeted him as he pulled open the glass doors, stepping inside into the heated building. He strolled up towards the second floor, a silent area where many other college students sat in cubicles and at tables, cramming for their exams in twelve hours. Heero spotted the blonde reading avidly at a table in the corner, with a large stack of thick literature next to her. Other people were slumped over their books, droll on the verge of dripping onto the crumpled pages but she sat straight up, composed and very interested. He twisted around the small maze of tables and chairs and sat himself down quietly.

"Hey," he greeted, looking at her studious face.

"Oh, hi," she whispered, looking up. "I didn't even see you come in."

"You were reading," Heero spoke, pointing at her book. "Good book?"

"Very," she responded. "Ready?"

"Yes," he nodded.

Relena cocked her head a little and gave Heero an odd look. "Um…" she began, "Where are your books?"

Shit. Shitshitshit. He knew he had forgotten something. He didn't even have a bloody textbook. "Ahh.. I forgot them at home," he lied quickly, flustered on the inside. Note to self: get a textbook, he mentally noted.

"That's okay," she laughed nervously, "You can share with me." She patted the empty spot next to her and he obediently got up again and sat down next to her in the uncomfortable wooden chairs. Relena had already gotten the wrong first impression, he observed. It wasn't something he wanted. She opened up a red textbook to where the post-it held her page.

"Okay, section five," Relena began, skimming down the page and thinking for a moment. Heero found himself watching her green eyes shift up, and then down. "Well basically, this section is explaining the incident seven years ago; the assassination of the Prime Minister in…"

The words are flowed together and sounded the same to him. His eyes became heavy and he could feel his muscles giving in. No amount of pushups could save him from the inescapable grasps of sleep…

No! Heero shook his head gently and focused on the lines of text and the sound of her voice.

"So it was really quite interesting, the conspiracy that is. Supposedly a terrorist group…"

Her voice. So soft, soothing.

Perfect for singing lullabies.

Perfect, he thought.

He remembered nothing after that thought.

"Hey, hey you," an echo rang through his head.

Heero groaned and felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. His back then arched straight up as he realized that he had just screwed up. He sunk down into his chair and saw that the janitor had found him asleep on the second floor.

"Are you okay?"

Heero nodded and swore under his breath, rubbing his now aching temples. He noticed that he had small pea coat around his other jacket. Hers, no doubt. The red textbook was still there, with a note jutting out from the middle of the book. "What time is it," he demanded to know groggily.

"A quarter after twelve," the janitor told him. "Look, if you need a paramedic…"

"No," he said quickly, "I'm fine." He opened the book and quickly skimmed over the note, his lips curling into a small frown.

_Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Call me if you need help. Hopefully, you'll be awake to receive it. _

_ - Relena_

He stood up and mentally slapped himself. Heero tucked both coat and book under his left arm and thanked the janitor, who probably thought that he had a bit too much to drink or something along those lines. Thankfully, Relena had left a phone number, which would save him the trouble of stalking her again. He stared at the slip in his hand while he jogged down the front steps, hit with a cold chill from the midnight sky. It was silent on campus, the lights the only comfort in the empty acres. His breath puffed out in misty white clouds, and his fingers had begun to numb and turned a bright pink.

_Hmm_, he thought, _I wonder what her favorite color is._

"I'm really sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay," she responded, "Really."

Heero had waited until the early morning crowd had dispersed and sat himself down at the bar in the café. She was surprised to see him, a little embarrassed even. He could sense that she was a little annoyed. "It's not okay," he remarked.

She shook her head, "I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose. You probably had a long day and I know I can be pretty boring sometimes…"

He chuckled lightly, superficially, and took a sip out of his brew. "Please, let me make it up to you."

She subtly gave a sly look, holding onto two dishes with large muffins on them. "Alright," she smiled. "How about dinner?"

He smiled; dinner was good. Dinner always led to sex. "Where to?""

"The diner off of Route 72. I'm dying for one of their burgers."

"Alright," he smiled, flashing one of his sexiest grins at her.

"Excellent," she purred like a cat. "Let's say eight on Friday night?"

Two days, he thought. "Great."

"After that, we can head to the party at Beta Epsilon," she told him before she walked around the bar towards a young couple sitting at a booth.

Not good. Bad idea, Heero frowned. Frat parties always had horny boys, something he didn't need. But frat parties also meant alcohol – that was indeed a plus. He weighed out the pros and cons before he realized that it wasn't his choice to make.

She served their orders and gracefully walked back, wiping her hands on her apron. Relena then shot a weird look at Heero. "By the way… why did you fall asleep? Was I really that horrible?"

He rested his chin on the back of his hand. "No," he said. "I had work."

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